Giving Chase
by screamingwindchime
Summary: Claudia hates mercenaries. When Ezio has the Military Barracks renovated, Claudia finds herself getting more involved than she should with a few mercenaries. Originally a Valentines Day fill for the kinkmeme, but it got long. T for language!
1. I

**A/N**: Dear god. This was supposed to be a Valentine's Day prompt, but I saw the prompt some scant days _before_ the day itself, and it usually takes me _weeks_ to flesh out a good story. So just bear with the fact that now it's April Fools', when this story is set around January-February. I suck at keeping track of time and prioritizing. Hope you guys enjoy, though!

I've got half of all this down (up to part VI) and I'll be posting them one by one soon.

So this is a kinkmeme fill that went wrong, but here it is anyway:

(TL; DR version) Claudia meets a young man in Monteriggioni and they have a cute young love affair.

And FYI, there IS an OC here,_ Luciano Stillitano_, pet name _Luca_. I did research for the last name and everything. (Didn't really help, lol.)

Bio:

Hair- Short and brown, kind of like the officer's or Federico's

Eyes- Blue

Skin tone- tanned, olive

Height and build- a little under 6-ft, light but still muscular build, and he gets made fun of by other mercenaries about it

Clothing- he's not a full blown mercenary so his clothes are still nice; tunics and breeches, occasionally coats.

Personality- warm and kind, can't kill for a million Claudias so he ends up a mercenary-messenger/secretary/nanny.

History- his father and one brother are mercenaries but in different places. He didn't have a choice and was forced into mercenary-hood, but as I said earlier he can't kill for anything and can't really handle swords so he just takes care of their accounts and stuff. And no other mercenary really knows but he's really skilled with the small weapons and projectiles.

-linebreak-

**Giving Chase**

_By xCamilleon_

_2011_

I

January 1480, Monteriggioni

"A presto, Ezio," muttered a bored Claudia as she turned the book back to her and continued to do the sums. From the corner of her eye she watched as Ezio shot her a pitying look, then walked towards the chest to collect his income.

The jingle of coin on coin in his pouch was no longer annoying or saddening, in the sense that he'd be leaving again and putting his life in danger; she had become used to him coming back quickly during a mission to collect his share in the earnings and have the architects renovate some dreary buildings, then leave again to far off places she'd probably never see herself. She hated him for it; she wanted to leave and see the world with him, but no, she'd been given the task of caring for their catatonic mother and looking after the damn book, in this depressingly dreary city, and she just—well, she hated it.

"I am leaving for Venezia again, sister," he asked, turning to face her as he secured the pouch on his belt. He always asked this before he left. "is there anything you would like for me to look for? Some cloth, or jewels perhaps?"

Claudia shook her head. She had just received special gifts from Lorenzo de Medici upon Ezio's completion of his mission; suffice to say her wardrobe was full of fashionable gowns for the next year. And she didn't need jewels. She would never get to wear them out, anyway, so what would their purpose be? So she gave her typical answer as well.

"I only wish to go with you, Ezio," she would say, then he would shake his head.

"You know very well that I can't do that, Claudia," he said. "I would if I—"

"Yes, I know, 'you would if you could,'" she said, feeling slight pinpricks of heat behind her eyes. "Just go, Ezio."

She pressed her quill to the paper harder in frustration as she continued to add up and balance the values that were contained in the book, that there was some unpaid tax from the brothel and doctor, the blacksmith was giving too much, and such; she'd see them righted tomorrow. She barely noticed Ezio and the architect speaking of what would be renovated next, until Ezio picked a building, paid the architect, and left, the architect happily saying after him, "Bon viaggio, Ser Ezio! I will see to it that the Barracks are renovated by the end of the month!"

And that was when her quill snapped.

Ink bled on the paper, going on in an indefinite blob as Claudia thought furiously.

Military Barracks.

Mercenaries.

Disgusting, foul-breathed, whore-loving, drunken, unsanitary, ruthless, beastly men.

And she'd have to contact them, and meet with them, and manage their taxes and deal with their men. More of the men who practiced in the ring in the front courtyard of the villa, who, when she passed by, whistled their admiration of her breasts or… well, breasts, and joked about how easy it would be to have her in their beds. More of the men who killed and fought for money, more dealing with wounded idiots that can't hold up swords and mace.

She hated Ezio as she begrudgingly added 'Military Barracks' to her list of guilds, ink spilling in splotches onto the paper.


	2. II

This part was written in a temporary haze, and I was supposed to remove and change it, but when I did, it just didn't seem right. Anyways I'll be putting up part III tonight, and I'll finish the whole thing as well.

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><p>II<p>

January 1480, Monteriggioni

When Claudia was a much younger girl, she had wanted to be like her mother, with a loving husband, children and a good life. She had imagined that her brothers, upon growing up—maturing, first of all—and leaving home, she and her own husband of choice would live in the Firenze villa, raising her children with all the love and care that her own mother had.

It seemed that fate did not want that, as she was pressed against the grimy wall of the dilapidated Barracks' headquarters by a burly, bearded, drunken mercenary that thought she was a wandering courtesan. His pungent breath was all she could smell and the feel of rough hands feeling her up was all she knew for that moment, and in that one moment she froze. She could not fight so she flailed and called for help, trying to back away and ending up against a wall.

"Bastardo, get off me! Anybody! Help! Please get him off me!"

"Shush, cara, do not call attention to yourself! I am quite sure that you have had this before… ah, you are beautiful! I shall double your fee, once you stop squirming," he muttered before he nuzzled his face into her bare chest. She had never, never felt this violated before, and she could no longer resist the urge to punch him in the face. When he jerked upwards due to a tug on his hair, he was met with a heavy fist crashing down on his nose.

"Merda!" he yelled as he held his damaged nose, and Claudia tried to straighten her skirts as he stuggled to breathe, blood spilling between his fingers. The haze of alcohol had impaired his cognitive thought processes; instead of retaliating, he jumped backward in fear.

"That's what you get, you fucking idiot!" she shouted reprimandingly at him. "I am Claudia Auditore and I am supposed to give you your schedule for taxation, but for this, I'm going to fine you five hundred florins for sexual harassment! If you think you can do this to me and—"

"Ey, Giacomo! What happened here?" asked a young man, resting on the doorframe, to catch his breath from—possibly—running to get to the headquarters. If Claudia wasn't so intent on castrating this man with her razor-sharp words, she would have noticed that the figure had a face—a nice one, at that, with sparkling ocean-blue eyes and the mussed, curly brown hair that fell over them. She would have noticed that his gray-blue tunic was open halfway down his chest, light golden muscles and ridges gilded by a fine sheen of sweat. But she was occupied and therefore did not.

"Luca! This puttana—" the dirty man was about to reply, when he was interrupted by an indignant Claudia.

"Be silent, you idiot! I am no courtesan, I am no whore, I am no classless woman you can take advantage of—I am Claudia Auditore!" she said, walking up to the man leaning on the doorframe—Luca, was his name? "And you," she poked a finger into his chest, looking him straight in the eye with a heated glare that would have set the Tuscan countryside on fire. "Luca, what took you so long? This culo over here was about to destroy my virtue and rape me! He would have succeeded if I hadn't punched him in the face! Dear lord, these are the men Ezio expects to protect us!" she pushed him away, leaving a bleeding and another confused man in her wake as she angrily walked back to the villa. She thought she heard a "Sorry?" come from one of them, but was too focused on storming off to care.

Hours later she would realize that she still had their tax papers.

She sighed as she rubbed the heels of her palm against her tired eyes; she didn't want tomorrow to come. At all. If it would be anything like this one, she wished not to wake up at all.

She sat up in bed, throwing the covers off of her. For some reason the air in the rooms in Monteriggioni felt stale no matter how long she kept the windows open in the daytime, so she walked towards the window and opened them. Her room faced the city, and she rested her hands on her arms as she stared off into the distant hills and plains, then back to the dreary old city that she would be calling home from now on. The black sky and the gray stone fortifications of the city made the whole thing resemble a tomb—not too distant to how Claudia thought of it.

She stared at things, first the main street near the entrance, where the shops were, leading up to the steps of the villa and the emptied training ring and the courtyard—

Was that a person on the bench, nearby the training ring?

Was that person watching Claudia from the bench, near the training ring?

Was that person returning her questioning look with a smirk of the lips, and a wave of the hand?

Utterly confused, and slightly scared, Claudia stood straight, inhaled deeply, then reached for the windowpanes, pulling them shut.

From the bench, all Luciano could do was smile as he watched Claudia shut the windows. He waited a moment, playing with his thumbs as he did. It was unlike him to instigate such a meeting, but Giacomo and his little escapade earlier in the day with the mistress of the Auditore Villa had left him feeling slight guilt that he could not get there sooner. He was supposed to be their 'accountant,' staying in the room all day, but obviously his cohorts thought little of this and decided to order him around all the time. Was it so terrible that one of the younger mercenaries was careless, and that he had to tend to him in the next barracks? And that he tripped on his way down the stairs?

Anyway, he didn't want to set such a bad impression on her. She was going to have to do business with them and he would have to do business with her; either way, if neither of them cooperated then neither would prosper long, either.

And, he had to admit, he was the most exciting thing he'd seen since arriving in Monteriggioni scant weeks ago. He couldn't believe he'd never encountered her, much less heard about her. He'd be sure to ask Giuliano about it the next day.

He heard the ghost of a creak as Claudia pried one windowpane open again, and Luciano did was pretend to not hear it, stand, and walk off as if nothing happened at such an ungodly hour.

Then he heard it.

Claudia stifled her yell to him, a cut-off "Wait!" that ended up as a "Wai-!" with her one hand out in the cold night air, signaling him to stop. He did, turning around, looking at her. He smiled, that much she could tell in the dim light, then turned and walked.

He walked towards the barracks.

Suddenly Claudia was embarrassed, angry and hateful all at the same time.

Tomorrow was going to be terrible, she just knew, as she left the window a crack open while she climbed back into bed, nuzzling her face into the pillow as the shameful feeling of anticipation and desire—to get answers, she told herself—heated her face.

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews, **CaptainKittens, TheSoupDragon, **and **Assassin Aisha!** :D


	3. III

**A/N **Relatively long chapter, and I said it was going to be up last night but I spent a day in the refining-past-refining stage. Still not as good as I'd like it, but it's good, still!

Enjoy, and please review!

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><p>III<p>

January 1480, Monteriggioni

Claudia had a fitful sleep that night; a few hours or so of sleep would pass and she would check back at the window, to see if he returned, or if he was anywhere in sight, and every few hours—she would deny if she was ever asked—she was slightly disappointed that he wasn't. She awoke the next day to a maid knocking at her door, informing her that breakfast was ready at the table. She rose and went to the corner of her room where she kept a fresh basin of water and towels, splashed her face with some and wiped herself dry.

She had learned, over time, how to undress and dress alone; without any assistance, she changed out of her virginal white nightgown and into her cotton chemise, kirtle, then slipped on a new, violet velvet, heavy-skirted gown from Lorenzo. The neckline was low and square, edged in golden thread, framing off her breasts perfectly but without being too immodest. She padded around the house barefoot when she could, but it was January and winter hadn't left Monteriggioni. She moved towards her closet and picked a pair of brown pebble-leather carbatines that Ezio brought her after one of his Firenze missions and put them on. Examining her appearance in the mirror, she placed the gown's matching hat and, pinning it in place, smiled at herself, pleased.

Turning towards her bedroom door, she was about to leave until she heard Mario calling for her.

"Claudia! Come down to my office right now!" his booming voice called, echoing through the marble hallways and into the rooms. She sighed. She thought she could have an uneventful breakfast, to go along with her so-far uneventful life.

"Ah, well," she said to no one in particular. "better something than nothing," and she took to the stairs, into Mario's study. On the way she wondered what the matter could be; perhaps he had found out about what she did with the income that Ezio didn't come to collect, or maybe he'd found out that she'd toyed around with a cinqedea of Ezio's when neither of them were around, and in the process she'd broken a particularly expensive chandelier, or perhaps he'd found out about—

Why was that pigheaded mercenary in Mario's study? Why was Mario scowling at him, and just why was that other man with him? Luca, was that his name?

"YOU!" she yelled indignantly. "Uncle Mario, this is the man who tried to rape me! He tried to—"

"Claudia, I know and I will have absolutely none of that. Did he succeed in doing anything? No, but you punched him in the nose and I—" he paused, circling the table to stand before her, fixing on a stern look. "You—remind me so much of myself, Claudia!" he said, grinning and taking her into his arms. Confused, Claudia did nothing but embrace him as well. Then she noticed the two others in the room, confused as well. She glared at the ugly bearded man with his bruised cheek and crooked nose, regarding him with utter hate and contept. She dared not look at Luca, who seemed to regard her with amusement, as she saw from the corner of her eye.

"Uncle Mario, I need to breathe, you know," she said, as Mario released her from his bear hug.

"Ah yes of course, cara," he said, settling back behind his desk.

"So what was this about? Why did you call be down here?" she asked, not looking at the two other men in the room.

Mario seemed to forget the reason himself, taking a good look at the mercenaries standing by the door. "Yes, well, this poor fellow over here fell into an ocean of bad luck when he decided to—offend you, and you ended up breaking his nose. Correct?" Claudia nodded. "Well, he doesn't make much and as far as I know, you did do it, and therefore you must pay for his medical treatment—"

"I am not paying for his medical fees, Uncle Mario!" she interjected. "Had I not done that he'd have had his way with me, and you know what Ezio would do to you if anything happened to me—"

"Well, Claudia," Mario interrupted her this time. "you have to, because that's the only compensation possible—"

"Messer Mario, if I may—"

"Shush, you idiot—" said Claudia, not really acknowledging the fact that a mercenary, a subject interrupted hers and Mario's argument.

"Claudia—"

"What?"

"Be kind to guests—"

"They are not our guests—"

"Scuzi, Messer Mario—"

"What?" The both of them asked in unison, one voice encouraging, the other hateful.

"I'd just like to say that there is a compromise that can be made—"

"Ah, what is it, that you will both resign from your posts here and move to another headquarters? That would be great—"

"Actually, no, Signorina Claudia," said the man. "My name is Luciano Stillitano, we—met yesterday?" he said, extending his hand to Claudia. When she didn't take it, he let it back down, heat flooding his cheeks at the rejection. "Well, I do believe that after you—fought Giacomo off, you said you would fine him five hundred florins—"

"Claudia—" Mario said reprimandingly, met with a glare from his niece.

"Well, Messer Mario, Signorina Claudia, if it is possible that the fine be lifted, as I am not entirely sure Signorina Claudia meant it—"

"I assure you, Luciano" she spat his name out syllabically, each filled with venom. "I always mean what I say."

"As do I," he said. "but unless you want this man to be indebted to you for months, I strongly suggest you lift the fine and I will cover the expenses for his medical treatment instead. That is all I ask."

Claudia regarded him with a look of tempered hate, but then she shot Mario a glance of daggers. "Uncle Mario," she asked with feigned sweetness. "help me out here."

Mario raised his hands, shaking them. "This is not quite my business to be meddling in-"

"Uncle Mario," she said, sterner now. "I do quite recall that you are the one who commands these mercenaries. And unless you want more, I will have the renovations canceled, and you won't-"

"Signorina Claudia, I don't believe it has to come to that-"

"Shut up, Luciano," Claudia said, veritably angry now. "I made my decision yesterday and I am sticking to it. He will pay me the five hundred florins, whether or not he will be indebted to me for months or not. Pawn his stupid mace or something-I made my decision and I am sticking to it. Intessi?" she said, and without another word, she took off to the dining room, picking up a plate, stocking it with ciabatta, cheese and prosciutto, and huffily walking back up to her room.

In the office remained Mario, Giacomo and Luciano, who, absolutely dumbfounded, did not utter another word until they heard her door slam shut.

"Feisty, isn't she?" Mario said, trying to break the awkward.

Luciano looked at Giacomo askance; he nodded in agreement. "Quite," he said.

They all stood around awkwardly as Giacomo decided that they should leave. He turned on his heel, towards the open way, calling to Luciano, "Let's go, our business here is done, I will pay the five hundred florins somehow," he said, a sad tone colouring his voice.

"You go ahead, Giacomo," said Luciano, turning to Mario. "I think I can persuade her."

Mario looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "You must be crazy; one would have more luck persuading a duck to give birth to a cat than do that-"

"Well, I've never tried, and I do like thinking of myself as like Thomas, not believing until I see for myself," interjected Luciano.

"Everyone else has; no one has ever succeeded."

"I am not everyone."

"You may as well be, Luciano," said Mario, sliding a drawer open, pulling out a small pouch of coin. "Here. I will cover the cost of the fine now; I shall have a fraction deducted from his wages at intervals. If you please, take this and pay it off-"

"I'd still like to try, Ser Mario," Luciano cut him off. Again.

Tired of Luciano's constant interrupting him he conceded to his wishes, telling him the way to her room. "Up the stairs, down the hall on the right; her room is the door on the right."

"All right, Messer Mario. Thank you. If this does not work, then I will take your money to Giacomo-"

"And tell the poor man to straighten up, will you? Everyone else as well. Can't afford to have a repeat of today now, can we?" Mario half-chuckled, half-warned, as he pulled back his chair, settling back into his work.

"I will see you later in the day about the renovations-"

"That is not my concern, boy," said Mario. "you must speak to Claudia about it. She is the one managing those things for us."

Luciano smiled as he left the room, following Mario's directions to Claudia's chamber on the second floor.


	4. IV

**A/N **So a couple of real-life setbacks, don't really wanna explain, led to the delay. I don't really have the time to go through everyone who alerted and/or favourited this story, BUT I'd really like to thank _all_ of you, from the depths and trenches of my heart. =)

Aaaaaand also, because of the setbacks, the next chapters might be coming on slowly (UGH) as I won't be allowed to have access to a computer. Sorry, but I hope you guys can wait it out.

And also I've gotten a few PM's on how this is not sugary sweet and teeth-rottingly cute, but I'm sorry, it's coming. Soon. I promise! I'll be getting along to writing the next parts soon… _soon, _and then maybe you'll develop some cavities.

Here's the part, hope you enjoy! Please leave a review and tell me how you found it! =]

IV

January 1480, Monteriggioni

Luciano climbed the marble staircase, pacing slowly down the hall, pausing at the door Mario had told him was Claudia's. He knocked once, then twice, and upon not getting a reply, twisted the knob and peeked inside. He cracked the door open an inch, then two, fractionally more and more, until it swung open as far as it could. Nothing moved in the room for a second, and he sighed, relieved. He noticed a shadow on the far side of the room, the figure creating it remaining unmoving despite his presence.

Then Claudia appeared from behind a changing-curtain, hands hidden behind her back. "What is it that you want, Luciano?" she spat with as much sting as possible; she said his name as if it were the name of a Pazzi himself.

"I would only like to negotiate with you, Signorina," he said, bowing his head gently. "nothing more."

"Well then," she said, eyes fixated on his in an ice-cold glare. "speak; what do you propose? It's not like I'll agree to it anyway." At this Luciano bit his lip, either to remember what exactly he wanted, or in intimidation. Claudia hoped it was the latter.

"I'd just like to appeal to you, Signorina Claudia," he began. "Giacomo does not have that much to give-"

"Then he shall not give it all right away," she interjected. "I can do installments."

Luciano shrugged. "But if you would at least void the fine, and just forget about it-"

"Are you telling me to forget about attempted rape?"

"He was drunk and mistaken, besides nothing happened-"

"Nothing needs to happen for it to be attempted rape-it is called as such for a reason, dimwit-"

"If it is anything, he is sincerely sorry to you and would do anything else to earn your forgiveness-"

"He can pay the fine, and then never speak to or cross paths with me again-"

"I'm sorry, signorina, but I do not believe that is possible-"

"Then I shall have him transferred."

"You cannot do that-"

"And why in the name of the Medici not?"

Luciano froze. A lie was blooming at the tip of his tongue but he couldn't make sounds coherent enough to be words. Claudia turned her nose up and faced an open window, looking out of it with misplaced contempt.

"That's what I thought. Leave now, Luciano. Make sure he pays back the sum, and stays the hell away from me. Am I understood?"

Luciano did not answer, nor did he turn to leave. He stayed firmly planted where he was, and with a muttered, "No," Claudia turned back to face him.

"Are you sick in the head!" she yelled in his face. In the process she had begun to stand on the tips of her toes, trying to get at the level of his eyes. His clear, ocean blue eyes, set in that lovely-what was she thinking? She looked away from his eyes—her own seeming to find it satisfactory to settle upon his lips. Hers trembled slighty as his tongue darted out to lick them, keep them moist. How irrelevant an action—and yet so sensual and—and—_indecent_, the way Claudia's thoughts were going.

"As far as I am concerned, no. But I have a feeling that I know there's a reason why you hate men so much. Why you don't want to be-touched," Luciano looked her over, eyes staying a slight moment longer over her chest. She wanted to punch him in the gut.

At the same time she didn't want him to stop.

He inched closer to her, whispering near her ear: "Tell me, has there truly been-no one?"

Claudia does not know what feeling or sense overcomes her but she finds her palm smacking his cheek. Hard. There is a pink imprint of her hand on his face now.

"Ducci-Luciano, leave. Now."

And without another word Luciano left, a smug smile gracing his lips once he was out her door. He didn't hear her leap onto her bed, didn't hear her weeping into a pillow, huffing the name "Duccio" every now and then with a muffled wail.

He was, however, surprised to find out later that day that Giacomo's fines had been dropped, a message delivered by one of the housemaids. This was going to be celebrated by Giacomo with a nice bottle of wine, which he'd quietly slipped some sleep inducing aromatics from the apothecary into. He couldn't afford to have him repeating his actions, could he?

Luciano then went about, business as usual, finding a nice, secret rosebush in one alleyway, even, as he was getting to know the city some more.


	5. V

**AN** I'll be out for the next week, so updates might come slower than usual. _Mi dispiace_! I'll try to have another one up by tomorrow night, before I go.

Please leave a review and tell me how you're liking it! =]

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><p>V<p>

February 1480, Monteriggioni

It had been nearly three weeks and she had only seen Luciano twice: once to finally deliver the taxation schedule, second to drop off the architect at the barracks to survey the area and take note of what needed fixing, reconstructing, and expanding. She had no run-ins with the fool Giacomo either; a close call when he was about to enter the "meeting-room" the barracks had. He opened the door with the intention to speak to Luciano, but upon spying Claudia with her back turned, he backed away slowly, gently shutting the door behind him.

Claudia, however, was much pleased to find a small vase of flowers on her desk every morning-every morning after the whole situation, but that information was nonessential to Claudia. The pink roses, she assumed, were sent either by Mario, to make up for the whole situation weeks previous, or by Ezio, who had been nearby-possibly Toscana or Firenze for a side contract-and he'd had extra florins, and thus paid a florist to send some roses… every day. She wondered no further than that. She didn't wonder how in Florence the rosebushes didn't bloom until late spring, or in Tuscany all the roses were red, and that the particular color was native to Monteriggioni. No, she didn't wonder-to do so would be mad! Distrusting her own brother like that. Of course it was Ezio behind all this; not Mario. She'd have to thank him one of these days when he came back to collect his earnings.

Now she was in the middle of her accounting duties, balancing values here and there, checking deposits and withdrawals and whatnot, about to close the book when there was a knock on the office door.

"Come in," she said, not really looking up from the last bit of sums that she had yet to balance. She'd have to remember to write down that she would remind the dottore still owed them for a loan he'd taken to expand his shop and laboratory, and pay a visit to him later in the day. She motioned the caller to enter, then after finalizing the last balance, closed the book. She wished she had looked up before doing so.

"Signorina Claudia."

Claudia forced a smile on her lips. "Luciano," she said through her teeth, with slightly more snark than necessary. "What is it now?"

"Did your uncle not brief you?"

Claudia's eyes widened for a second, then went back to normal size, eyebrow cocking slightly over one as they settled. She studied Luciano; he was wearing riding breeches, leather boots, a low-necked white tunic, sleeves shoved up his delicate, muscled arms, its bodice hugging his abdomen nicely; took note of the leather gloves that concealed his sensuously long fingers and—oh dear _lord_ what was she thinking? She shook herself out of it, otherwise she'd be caught _staring_, god forbid. She'd gathered this: he was going somewhere… and she was supposed to go with him?

"No, he did not. What are you talking about?"

Luciano looked genuinely flabbergasted. "I could swear I'd told him to tell you for a whole week. Never mind. Today, we are supposed to go into San Giminiano. We are supposed to purchase supplies for the barracks, and I'm supposed to be on the lookout for some free—I mean unemployed—mercenaries," he looked at her, all dressed in red silk that creased at the slightest movement—she looked totally unprepared for a half-quarter day's journey to San Giminiano in a carriage, never mind on horseback! "I can't believe he didn't tell you," he said, slight confusion running over his features.

Claudia was silent for the most part, wondering what Mario was thinking, not telling her this in advance. She tried to find something to say, around the lines of 'no way in hell I'm going with _you_' or something like that, but then she realized that she hadn't been out at _all_ ever since arriving in Monteriggioni, and if she went, she could order whatever it was that the Architect said he needed for some constructions at the barracks, without paying a fee for a courier. And she wanted to go out. Did she mention that she hadn't traveled beyond the walls of Monteriggioni ever since being deposited there by Ezio? Well, she hadn't. And it had been nearly two years.

"And I'm supposed to go with you?" she said, trying to sound as reluctant as possible. She didn't want to give the impression of desperation, because that was something that she was definitely _not_, no, there was no way that she would be desperate to leave. At all. Especially not with Luciano.

Well, maybe just a little bit—

"Well, yes, but seeing as you're unprepared, I can go myself—"

"It is a day trip, si?"

"Well, no, I'd sent a messenger to look for a place to stay for one night—this… supply gathering, it can take a while to find the right people." He faltered slightly, as Claudia was not reacting with the fists and screams that he was expecting. "It is an overnight trip, and we should be returning by evening tomorrow. The carriage I've had prepared for you-"

"Wait for me at the stables. Pick me a good horse. I'm coming with you," she said, standing up, skirts rustling as she bent slightly over the desk, putting all her quills and inkpots and the book in their places. She locked the villa safe. She did all this quite quickly, and Luciano was standing there, staring like an idiot because he didn't know what to do. "Go on," she said. "I'll follow. I'll ride on horseback. I can't stand carriages."

"But don't you have work to—"

"I'm finished for the day, and tomorrow is my—break, and besides I've nothing to do," she said uncertainly, as Luciano continued to look at her. They exchanged a few awkward looks until Luciano decided to speak himself.

"I suppose I should be going now," he said. So he left for the stables, and left her to change and prepare her things for the trip. He was a few paces out the door when he heard her call him again. He peered back through the doorway, watching her. Expecting her cold, steely expression, he was slightly taken aback when she was looking at him, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

"Luciano, on you could you please just pass this note onto the dottore—he has some remaining debts to me, and he needs to pay them off soon," she said, scrawling onto a small, rough edged square of paper in her neat, almost calligraphic script. Folding it into thirds and sealing it from the wax of a candle on her desk, she held it out to Luciano. He walked back, the leather soles of his boots slapping against the floor, creating a distinct sound. He took the note, nodding in acknowledgement.

"See you at the stables."


End file.
